I almost went to the Oval on Friday night. And so did a lot of other people. There was talk of Kevin Pietersen playing for Surrey against Middlesex in the Twenty20 Blast. In the end Pietersen was not in the squad of 14 because of injury. His damaged finger, which must have hindered him throughout his none too memorable season with the Delhi Daredevils in the IPL, was apparently still troublesome.

Surrey must have been disappointed. Love him or hate him – no cricket follower, it seems, is indifferent to him – Pietersen puts bums on seats. Admittedly mine would have been there at the behest of my employers but, had Pietersen come out to bat, I would have closed my laptop’s lid before looking on intently. You have to watch him as you are never quite sure what will happen next. There might be a preposterous dismissal, bringing a smile to those who cannot abide him and welcome his ostracism; or it might be an innings beyond the scope of any cricketer of his generation, which leaves everyone else gasping. Just occasionally it might be a mundane 20, ending with a shot most distracted (I can say that because I’m not party to any settlement agreement).

Instead we must all wait for next Friday’s Blast. Then we expect Pietersen to turn out for Surrey against Essex at The Oval. Meanwhile Andrew Flintoff is scheduled to be at Old Trafford to play in the Roses T20 match. If it remains dry, the crowds will flock to both venues to catch a glimpse of Pietersen and Flintoff in action. It is an uncomfortable truth for the England and Wales Cricket Board that there is not yet anyone in its side capable of seducing the ambivalent cricket follower from his/her sofa quite like this odd couple.

Their situations are different. Despite his struggling in the IPL Pietersen can reasonably be expected to deliver some magic. He is a current professional cricketer and, although he is surplus to requirements as far as England are concerned, everyone knows that he can still play a bit. Surrey, whose experience with overseas players is shifting from misfortune towards carelessness, will be very happy to accommodate him.

But no one is so sure about Flintoff. For him the landscape is trickier. He has not played a real game of cricket for five years; there has been the odd outing for the PCA Masters XI within the past two years. This weekend he has been playing in a club game. On Thursday, by way of some last-minute revision, the plan is to have an outing for Lancashire 2nd XI.

It is a more daunting undertaking for Flintoff, albeit a far more welcome one than his excursion into heavyweight boxing. Five years is a long time.

How will the body react? And what about the reflexes? Moreover Lancashire, with a cast of no stars, are doing rather well in the Blast. They sit on top of their table, having won four out of five matches. From a cricketing perspective this may not be the best time to introduce the joker. In Manchester there must be one or two who still remember the signing of Rodney Marsh by City, who were top of the league in March 1972. They finished up fourth as Marsh by his own admission had a bit of a nightmare.

However the treasurer at Old Trafford will be happy with the return of Flintoff. It will be fascinating to see how he gets on and most cricket fans and players will welcome him back. But there is also a voyeuristic element to his return. We are intrigued whether he can still do it and, indeed, why he should want to do it so long after his retirement.

Other English greats have done something similar in the shorter forms of the game. In 1972 Fred Trueman played for Derbyshire in the Sunday League, opening the bowling alongside Fred Rumsey. Derbyshire did not win the trophy but there must have been some wonderful anecdotes in the bar afterwards. In the same season Ted Dexter came back to play for Sussex in the 40-over game. Perhaps most successful of all was John Snow, who in 1980, at the age of 38, regularly bowled eight frugal overs in the Warwickshire side that won the John Player League.

Everyone will hope that Flintoff returns as an effective cricketer rather than an embarrassing celebrity since celebrities and cricket rarely mix well. Just think of that ugly tea-time “entertainment” during last winter’s Ashes in Sydney when, to the apparent delight of Mark Nicholas and Shane Warne, Brett Lee bowled an over in the nets to Piers Morgan during an interval. It was hard to discern who looked more ridiculous, Morgan for agreeing to do it or Lee for tearing in and trying to knock Morgan’s head off from a distance of 18 yards.

More distantly, Jeffrey Archer once asked Somerset’s cricket chairman of the 70s and 80s, Roy Kerslake (now the club’s president), whether he might play in the final Sunday League game of the season provided the club was not in with a shout of winning the trophy. The opposition, I recall, was Lancashire, who had the ruthless Colin Croft in their team. Kerslake, a wise and compassionate man who may have had Archer’s wellbeing at heart, replied: “Perhaps not.”